


Spotlight

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Harry, M/M, Snarky Louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 04:37:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles is an award winning actor. His life has been pretty normal until a devious boy starts showing up on set. Harry's never been very good when it comes to curiosity, and vows to figure this boy out. An AU Larry fic. Eventual smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spotlight

Harry had seen him wandering around on set before. Always with a beanie on, and always walking around like he had something to hide. Harry wasn't interested, no, just curious. The mystery person ducked whenever security was around, and pulled on his beanie when passing cameras. Harry knew he could just ask security, ask them who the mysterious boy with the tattoos was, but some part of him held back. He had been followed around and guarded from danger his entire life, and maybe part of him wanted to go beyond that. He wasn’t sure, all he knew was that _he_ was the one who needed to find out this boy's identity, _not_ security.

He started watching. Following the boy around when he wasn't called on set or stuck in wardrobe. But the boy always managed to shake him off, escaping down alleyways or seemingly disappearing into thin air. He didn't understand it. This boy definitely didn't want to be found, but if that was so, why hang around on a movie set of all places where there was tons of security and cameras to get by?

It started consuming Harry's mind. The tattooed boy occupied his thoughts near constantly. Harry kept forgetting his lines or performed scenes at sub-par. He was off his game and he knew the only way to fix it was to figure out the story of this boy. He wasn't sure what intrigued him, the fact that nobody seemed to notice him besides Harry, or the fact that this boy had total freedom. Showing up whenever and doing whatever he pleased on set. Doing all sorts of odd jobs as Harry continued to play the same character, the same role, every single day. He was hooked, and he was afraid he would never rest until he figured this boy out.

Harry soon got his answer. After spotting the boy's tell-tale red beanie in the distance, he took off. Filming was done for the day and the only thing that awaited him now was making his way through the screaming fans to his car. He ran after the boy. He needed a name, to see his face, to learn his story. Something. Anything that gave him an ounce of knowledge about this boy shrouded in mystery and myth. He turned the corner and headed down a back lot, finding it empty. He found another alley leading to the left and peered down it, searching for his mystery boy before he was suddenly pushed against the wall with an alarming force.

Air rushed out of his lungs as his eyes focused on a red beanie was at his eye level. He glanced down and found piercing blue eyes staring at him intensely. And below that, arms and a collar bone covered in tattoos.

His mystery boy.

"What d'ya think you're doing following me around like that?", the boy questioned him with an English accent. Just like Harry. Interesting.

Not even ten seconds into their first encounter and Harry was already rendered speechless. Why had he been following him again?

"I... erm.... I should be asking you why you've been sneaking around so much. Yeah. That's it."

The boy scoffed, "Because I'm not supposed to be here. Duh. Can't get caught otherwise I'd get thrown out."

Harry's eyes widened, what if this was some bizarre stalker fan. He had seen them before, going to insane lengths to get alone time with their favorite actor or artist. Had he just walked into a trap?

"Wh-why're you on set then?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Experience. I'm a film studies major you see. I've been trying to get an internship for ages now but haven't gotten a call. Have to have experience to get a job, but you can't get experience unless you have one. I'm not a snoop. I won't leak set pictures or plot twists, I'm just here for the atmosphere. To get a feeling for it all. You can check my phone if you want, there's nothing on there." He handed his phone to Harry but quickly pulled it back, he frowned, "On second thought, you might'nt want to do that."

Shocked, Harry grabbed his phone. Plot leaks were a big deal on set and he wanted to be sure this boy wasn't as devious as he looked.

He searched his notes, texts, anything that could show he was leaking information, but came up short. The boy was clean for the most part. He began scrolling through pictures when he noticed the boy smirking. He ignored it, and kept scrolling, until he found something that made his throat go dry and his eyes open wide. There were dozens upon dozens of pictures of his mystery boy in compromising positions. _Very_ compromising positions. As in no pants, no shirt, no anything clinging to the boy’s body. Just beads of sweat, or droplets from a shower, or a random article of clothing thrown on to tease. He looked up in shock to question the boy and found the smirk still glued to his face.

"Told you you might not wanna check it. Oh don't look so victimized, those are professional shots. Something's gotta pay the bills. California isn't cheap after all. Modeling pays you for standing there and looking pretty. No effort at all and I get loads of cash."

Harry's cheeks were red and his body felt very warm. He was getting way more than he asked for and wanted to end this as soon as possible.

"I should turn you in," he stuttered out.

"Oh, you won't do that, Curls. Blow my cover and I'll blow yours. I see the way you look at that pretty boy co-star of yours. Fans wouldn't be too happy to find out their dream boy is swinging for the other team." He looked at him, challenging him with his entire being.

Harry was taken aback. Nobody knew about his sexuality. Nobody. No friends. No family. No one knew. He was okay with it, truly. But he was an actor, and these things could end up messy. So he was careful about it. At least he thought he was,"You wouldn't..."

"Oh, yeah? Try me. I need the experience. I'll only be here for another week or three, then I'll move on somewhere else. I'll be out of your hair before you know it, Curls. Let me be, and I'll leave you alone. Simple as that."

Harry began to get angry, but refused to show it, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

"You never introduced yourself."

"You mean you don't know my name?" He was an award winning actor, how did this kid not know his name?

"Oh, I know it. But you never properly introduced yourself." He smirked again. He was playing Harry like a violin, and he was loving every minute of it.

"Harry. Harry Styles."

"Hiya, Harry. Louis. You don't get the pleasure of a last name in case you flake on me. Now, I really must be going. You must have tons of fans to attend to after all." He began to saunter away, looking like the most smug thing in the world. He quickly spun around, still drawing away from Harry in a graceful backwards stroll. "Oh, and Harry, I really don't wanna leak that little dirty secret of yours. But, self preservation and all that jazz. Tootle-loo."

And with a small little wave, he turned the corner, leaving Harry more confused and dazed than before.

Why had he wanted to know about this boy again?

~~~~~~~

Harry tried to keep his distance the rest of the week, he really did. But Harry was never very good when it came to curiosity. He always managed to catch Louis in his peripheral vision, or see a glimpse of red bobbing amongst the hundreds of cast and crew dispersed around set. It drove him crazy. He shouldn’t still be interested in the boy, but he was. The boy had all but threatened him, yet his curiosity hadn’t ceased, it sat there nagging him in the back of his mind. Not to mention those pictures. At first they had been unsettling - Harry was disgusted that he had seen Louis in such a state - but as time went by, he found his mind wandering back to the boy. He had only seen a glimpse, but what he did remember was seared into his brain. The tattoos, the lithe, yet curvy build to the boy, almost feminine in a way, but undeniably... well, hot. He found himself bombarded with images of the boy at night, and no, there was no way he might’ve gotten off to it, no way at all. No way it made him flush beneath his covers and draw a shaky hand over his body as his other traveled lower and lower. No way in hell that he came, panting what may or may not have been Louis’ name while envisioning the tattooed boy’s lips, eyes, chest... Yeah, no way at all.

There also was the fact that this boy, Louis, was the only person on the face of the planet who knew he was gay. This should have put Harry off, the fact that this boy knew his secret and was holding it against him, but it didn’t. The floor hadn’t opened up and swallowed him whole, and God didn’t smite him on the spot. Someone knew. And it wasn’t the end of the world. Louis hadn’t acted disgusted, hadn’t spit in Harry’s direction. Sure he was using it as leverage, but that was just to keep him quiet, right?

No matter how much he turned it over in his mind - Louis, the situation in general - Harry always came to one conclusion. He was utterly fucked.

He was mulling this over in his head, wondering how he got in this ridiculous situation (he knew it was his own fault, but it didn’t hurt to want to blame others, right?). They had wrapped early, something Harry was more than happy about, seeing as he hadn’t focused on work in over two weeks. Hadn’t had the time to, really. Wandering around on set always cleared his mind, especially after nearly everyone had left. It was surreal almost, to have such a large space be completely empty and desolate. Harry could spend hours there, and maybe this is how he found himself on one of the lesser used sets nearly two hours after he should have headed home. He just sat there, in the dark, looking over all the little details that actors often overlook. All the little things that some people spend their entire day on, the way the book shelves are arranged, or the way the furniture is placed. The little stuff that no one ever notices, yet is such a big part of some people’s lives. He sat there in silence accomplishing nothing when the lights turned on, blinding Harry as he looked around. He shouldn’t of been that surprised to find his mystery boy leaning in the doorway.

“Hiya, Curls,” he smirked, "Fancy meeting you here."

Harry couldn’t resist the urge to glare at him, "Yeah. Charming, really. Do you mind leaving? I'm a little busy here."

Louis looked curious for all of two seconds before the smug look returned to his face, "Yeah, must take a lot of effort to memorize the book shelves. And as much as I'd love to stay away from you, I have work to do." And with that he walked over to another part of the set and began rearranging and adding elements to the scene.

Harry scrambled up from the floor and walked over to where Louis stood silently, curiously watching as the boy meticulously changed the layout of some paintings and pictures. "What're you doing?"

"Set redesign. Believe it or not I do actually do work here. Just long enough before they realize I'm not on payroll." He shrugged as he looked back at Harry, "Wanna help?"

Harry paused before giving a slow nod. Normally the actors weren't allowed to touch anything on set unless instructed to, so this was entirely new to him. Louis slid over a list of notes that contained changes that needed to be made and props that needed to be moved.

"You can do the last five on the list if you want, I can handle everything else. Although it is nice to get a little help around here. They sure treat staff around here shitty. Even though I'm technically not staff," he admitted with a small laugh.

Harry began to pad around the room making the changes he was supposed to. Switching out a dated picture for a more current shot. A change in magazines or newspapers sitting on the coffee table. Little things that he wouldn't have thought about changing before, but now realized made a lot of sense.

"So, is this what you wanna do, for like a living?"

Louis paused and thought for a moment before responding, "Yeah, I suppose so, although not this specifically. Producing is where I'd like to end up, but you gotta start small in this business sometimes. Well, you do if you're not an actor." His tone seemed slightly bitter, but he didn't seem to mean too much by it.

“I’m sorry,” Harry let slip before he realized what he was saying.

Louis looked over at him, confused, but carried on what he was doing, “Sorry for what, exactly? It’s not your fault you made it big. You got lucky, that’s nothing to apologize for.”

“That’s not what I meant....” Harry wasn’t sure how to say what he wanted to, so he remained quiet, carefully following the list of things he was supposed to do.

The room was silent for awhile, nothing but the sound of shuffling and the scrape of furniture across the floor as more changes were made to the set. It was comfortable in a way, working silently side by side. Harry realized why some people enjoyed doing this, the subtle art of designing a room to fit a character, watching the set evolve as the characters do, it was a new side of film that he had never seen before, something he probably would have never noticed before. He was caught up in his thoughts when Louis broke the silence.

“You know, Curls, you aren’t half bad. Maybe I was wrong about you. Not that I’m wrong very often, but y’know. Even the greatest mess up sometimes.”

Harry snorted quietly, trying to hold back a laugh,“Yeah, whatever you say. You thought I was bad?”

Louis set down whatever prop he had been holding before vaulting over the back of the couch and landing gracefully on the cushion. He squinted at Harry, deep in thought, before he finally responded, “Don’t take it personally. I’ve been on a lot of sets. And trust me when I say a lot. Many of the stars are nice and all, but some can be real twats. I don’t wanna say you looked like one of the twats, but you’re one of those pretty boy actors with girls practically drooling at your heels. I had to be careful, because again, word gets out I’m not supposed to be here, and I’m gone.”

Harry was shocked. He was half expecting a smart-ass answer, not the truth. Maybe this Louis kid wasn’t a giant dick. An attractive dick of course, but a dick nonetheless. Harry wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. He hadn’t been expecting this. Hadn’t expected another conversation with Louis at all. He decided to take a leaf from Louis’ book and attempt to be witty and sarcastic, just like his mystery boy.

“You really think I’m a pretty boy actor, huh?” He offered with a grin. Not quite a smirk yet, but he was getting there. Let’s see what Louis makes of that.

“Why of course, Curls.” Louis winked without hesitation.

Now that wasn’t what Harry expected. He could feel himself blush, felt the warmth creeping up his neck that threatened to spill onto his cheeks, so he looked down, mumbled something  about being a tease, and refused to look at Louis as the blush finally spread to his face.

The room became silent again, although this silence was just a wee bit more tense. At least it seemed that way to Harry. He picked at the carpet underneath him. When had he sat down on the floor directly across from Louis again?

Louis shuffled a bit before hopping of the couch, finally breaking the silent tension in the room, “Well, looks like my work here is done. Thanks for helping out a bit. See you around, Curls.”

Before Harry could look up, Louis had already left the room, leaving Harry alone on the newly arranged set. He should have felt confused. Should have felt awkward or embarrassed. But he didn’t feel any of those emotions, not really.

What he did feel? A strange, bubbly sensation that he hadn’t felt in a while. And the odd urge to see Louis again. And again. And again.


End file.
